


Javik Drabbles

by MsLanna



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2018-04-22 23:02:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4853936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsLanna/pseuds/MsLanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They keep happening, so I might as well post them.<br/>No overarching story.<br/>Just things going through my mind.<br/>Mostly close friends femShep and Javik, with some ace Shavik.  ^.^'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Experiential Exchange

At first she didn't notice. It was not something you noticed per se. And how often did she put her hand on Liara's arm, gave James a well-meaning pat on the shoulder, ribbed Garrus for old times sake? No, it was not something she noticed.

But Javik was different. One day Shepard had asked him, unable to contain her curiosity. His constant need to wash his hands, his aloofness, his care in handling only his own gear and carefully upgrading it himself. Why?

Of course he had said it was because they were all primitives. Anybody but him was sure to make mistakes, get things wrong. So he would do it personally, would stay apart from the life-forms he perceived to be below him. He stood alone.

But nobody could live completely on their own and his imperialist views did not serve him well in this cycle. There was no superior race. And he was only one person.

“Does it always happen?” Shepard had leant back, watching him closely.

“Of course, Commander.” Javik's hands were searching for some ultimate truth in the water in his basin. “I can control the intensity. A skill every Prothean learnt early on. Transferring information through touch is in our genes. You do not switch that on and off like lights.”

She had kept an eye on him after that. For a while. When she was not distracted by Reapers, the war, and hailstorms of bullets coming at her. Javik did not touch anything. His hands were mostly covered, only the tips of his fingers protruding from the gloves.

And the sensory experience exchange worked still. Eden Prime had proven that. Sometimes Shepard found herself wondering what the ground he was walking on was telling Javik. If it was still speaking of all the feet it had carried before.

And then she had forgotten to watch. Her head full of plans within plans, the pressure building up slowly as the Reapers tore into the galaxy. No, she had not noticed. Had it been on Namakli, in the rattling ruins of the dig site? Just a quick movement to steady her, keep her from falling. No, she wouldn't have noticed.

Or was it on Despoina? Falling out of the Triton after her ordeal in the deep? She certainly was in no condition to notice then. She hadn’t thought about it after curing the genophage. Shaken from Mordin's death, curled up in the furthest corner of the Normandy she could find, hidden from everybody, especially her friends.

How much did the bulkhead of the Normandy tell Javik? How easy had she been to find? A moved crate to give extra shelter and hide her from view; how much did it say? Shepard couldn't even remember what the he had told her. It had been – something. And she had felt better afterwards. But she had not noticed.

She had noticed, though, stepping out of the geth interface pod, his fingers strong around her arm. And his eyes focussed somewhere just behind her eyes, processing. Shepard had wondered if she was just another information dump. But her head had cleared, the experience became easier to bear, easier to understand, to take apart and digest.

And she didn't need that hand on Rannoch, up the rocks, down the stationary turret. Shepard stopped counting after a while, but not noticing. Javik was not giving Tali a hand. Ever. Even though the Quarian was probably better insulated than she was.

And when they had taken down the second AA Gun, she had put it to the test. Nothing big. A hand on his shoulder. The smallest of well-dones in her arsenal. And he had just looked, blinked, moved on.

Shepard didn't know what information he read when he touched her. Every time he touched her. She did not receive anything putting her palm against his arm. But experiential exchange was in his genes, not hers. Maybe it was just a one-way-street unless forced otherwise. Maybe she would never know. Shepard stared at the Reaper towering over her despite the high ledge she was standing on, the targeting laser ridiculously small in her hands.

Maybe it didn't matter. But still. She raised the laser, facing the Reaper with a grim smile. Once this one was down, she aimed and fired, ran for the far side and aimed again. Once this one was down, she would reach out because she could, because it was right. The vengeance of his people had a right to know how it felt, bringing a Reaper down, standing tiny and small before the face of extinction.

It would not be casual. She knew and so did he. But maybe that didn't matter. Because there would be time for a casual touch now and then. She had not noticed at first. But now that she had, she would certainly not forsake him.


	2. Mate

“If you require a mate, please look elsewhere.”

Shepard leant back and crossed her arms before her. “Come again?”

“You are spending a disproportionate amount of time with me, Commander.” Javik didn't look up.

“I happen to like spending time with my crew,” she replied. “I do that a lot.”

“Indeed.” His hands were still for a moment, then he looked up. “But even taking that into consideration, the amount of time spent with me is significantly higher.”

“Have your considerations included the fact that none of the others are fifty thousand years out of their time, Javik?” Shepard shook her head. “They have friends and family to turn to. You on the other hand have nobody.”

“The crew is still trying to befriend me.”

“And you are still stonewalling them all.”

“It is better this way, Commander” Javik insisted. “I do not want any of them to get ideas.”

“Like me?” Shepard chuckled. He just gave her a scathing glare. “Come on Javik, they are trying to help.”

“Like you?” He asked pointedly.

“If it puts your mind at ease, I am not looking to initiate a sexual relationship with you,” she replied. “There. Better?”

“I will take your word for it, Commander.” He did not sound convinced.

“I like to think that I would let the other know if I was interested in them,” Shepard said. “Otherwise, what’s the point?”

“I do not know,” Javik said. “The media portrays not telling as standard procedure, though.”

“That bullshit.” She snorted. “Most problems in the vids could be solved through talking five minutes to somebody. Bosh'tet. Though,” she frowned, “if you communicate through touch, that kind of misunderstanding would be impossible, right?”

“You mean you cannot hide the way you feel about the person you touch?” Javik said. “Why would you try, Commander? But it is possible to overlay other experiences if you focus.”

“Try me.”

Javik hesitated for a moment. Then he stepped towards her, taking her upper arms in his hands purposefully. He closed his eyes and just stood there for a while. When he opened his eyes again, he blinked slowly. “I believe you, Commander.”

“Good.” Shepard gently pushed him away. “I can't have that kind of thing stand between us.”

“You are not pursuing any relationship,” Javik said.

“Right.” Shepard drew the word out to last for a second.

“I find this curious since you are putting so much stock into relationships.” Javik returned to the basin in the corner of his quarter, dipping his hands gingerly into the water. “I had the impression that there is an emphasis on them in this cycle. And you are close to many on board.”

“Uh,” Shepard hesitated. “It never occurred to me, I guess.”

“Why not?” He asked.

“I don't know.” She shrugged. “It never felt as if I was missing something. I know where I can go if I need comfort; words or hugs.”

“And that is all you require?”

“Javik,” Shepard sighed, "a minute ago you told me to go somewhere else to look for a mate and now you enquire after my sex life?”

“I am enquiring after your physical and mental health,” he replied. “It is bad enough that the primitives rule in this cycle and the fight against the Reapers must be spearheaded by one. I cannot risk you being distracted one way or another.”

“I am not building up steam I can't vent, if that is what you mean,” Shepard said. “And you are lucky you are the last of your kind and on your own. Because you have to earn the right to ask me such questions.”

“Your frequent visits of me indicated that I already have, Commander.”

Shepard wondered if this was the moment you went ahead and whacked the Prothean with his own shoulder plates. “Your reading of my behaviour was off, Javik. Accept it and don't be a sore loser.”

“Why not? Because I have had so much practice?”

“That won't work on me,” she said.

“Good. It shows you have at least some of your wits about you.” He looked up briefly. “I would prefer to be alone.”

With a shrug, Shepard turned to leave. Somehow the conversations with Javik always derailed like that. She thought she had finally made some progress, found a lever to understanding the Prothean and he would, he would.

He would push all of her buttons until she had forgotten what they had been talking about. And then he'd dismiss her. And it worked every time. Fuck that fucking Prothean. Maybe he was the one who should be looking for a mate.


	3. Bare Feet on the Cold Floor

Facing the Leviathans had taken a greater toll on her than Shepard had expected. The deep was still cold in her bones. A long hot shower had not chased the freezing shivers away. Seeking shelter under all blankets she had did not help either. The duvets covering her only reminded Shepard of the dark pressing in at the bottom of the ocean. Cold, relentless, uncaring.

Tossing or turning didn't help. Curling up in a tight ball didn't help. Nothing helped. Closing her eyes once more she remembered. Falling out of the Triton, barely conscious of what was going on around her. Everything had been jumbled and scrambled, the rain hitting her as hard as bullets. The ocean roaring in her ears.

She remembered Javik, though. Not how he had come for her, but the moment he had picked her up, half carried, half dragged her to the shuttle. She remembered that. The rain had been rain again, bursting on her face and armour. She remembered the placement of each of his fingers. The sudden meaning attached to everything around her. The floor of the shuttle hard against her back. And then nothing.

Dr Chakwas had said, that there wasn't anything amiss with her and had released her from the med bay. But the darkness had lurked, had followed her. And now it had caught up. It was strange to think that Javik had kept it at bay, even down on Despoina. How did he do that? And to what end?

Shepard turned over, trying to ban the Prothean from her mind. It was more difficult than expected, especially since he seemed to be able to keep her terror in check. His touch had always been reassuring, taking information from her as they went, but also returning it. Validating or questioning her decisions. She always knew where Javik stood on her decisions.

And she knew where she stood with him. Which was not as pleasant as having her own thoughts mirrored back at her through the lens of his experience. But what did she want? She didn't even know. Shepard uncurled under her blanket, staring at nothing.

Would he be feeling the ship at all times? His boots didn't have thicker soles than anybody elses. Was he taking in the background hum of the Normandy and its crew? A constant precaution he had been taking since his first day on board?

Rolling over to the side of her bed, she reached out and put her palm against the floor. It was cool against her skin. To think that it connected to the whole ship from the cockpit to the shuttle bay. What was it like to know who was still awake and what mood they were in? Did it work in such detail? Was it work?

The cold started to seep up her hand slowly, still the metal had barely warmed. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine feeling the whole Normandy, not only the almost imperceptible hum of its engines. It helped distracted her for a while. But the cold brought back other memories, memoires of freezing, of unbearable pressure, and a presence trying to overwhelm her mind with brute force.

Shepard wondered if she would ever be able to forget it. Probably not. But being able to control it, to relegate it to a remote corner of her mind that would be enough for now. It was not Javik's fault that his touch could to that. It was also not his fault that she was attracted to him. As an imperialistic arsehole with a superiority complex, he was not supposed to be appealing. And he agreed with that. His purpose, as he had stated repeatedly, was to fight the Reapers. A point he kept emphasising. She had no right to expect anything else.

Shepard swung her legs over the edge. The cold against her feet grounded her somewhat. It was her feet that were cold, not her whole being. There was no engulfing darkness; all the lights in her cabin were on. She looked around for a moment before getting up and slowly walking over to the fish tank. Fish were supposed to be calming. She needed some calm right now.

Not the frozen rigour of the Leviathans. She shuddered. How could such a brief encounter contaminate all images of calm she had? Oceans, space, skies. Shepard took a long breath. She put her arm against the glass over her head, ready to lean her forehead against it any moment. The jellyfish swam by, light white outlines in the water.

She watched them move, concentrating on the cold that was definitely in her arm, in her feet, contained in small portions of her body. She was not, she was not – Shepard took another deep breath when the door chimed. She quenched the flicker of hope shooting through her, warming even the soles of her feet for a split moment. It was a godforsaken time for a visit. But this was war. Anything was possible.

“It's open.” It always was. Her crew probably knew by now, but she was the commander. You didn't just barrage in the way she was allowed to. Her forehead attached itself to her arm making her breath bounce back at her from the fish tank.

“Commander.” He needn’t say anything more.

Clamping her eyes shut for a second, she pushed the tears back down and scrounged a smile up from the depths of her self. Shepard turned her head towards Javik for a moment, hoping the smile would hold up that long. “Javik. What brings you up here?”

He looked at her feet. Following his gaze Shepard cringed. So this was how well it worked. She was not sure whether to be glad or embarrassed. Sorry. Relieved. Not alone. More confused than before. But in a good way. Probably. She let out a sigh, still searching for at least one right word to say.

“You are still obsessing about the encounter with the Leviathans.” He looked awfully casual without those pauldrons.

“I am.” She agreed. “I just can't shake it.” Another shiver was running up her spine. “It was, it was-” she searched for words, leaning heavily against the fish tank with closed eyes.

“I understand.” For a moment the whole galaxy was focussed on his hand slowly settling down on her shoulder.

Despite its gentle pressure, the turmoil and chaos seemed to be seeping out of her through that pinhole. How was he doing that? And why? Shepard relaxed a little, taking a few deep breaths. The universe tilted upright again, starting to resemble something like order.

“How do you do this?” She turned to face him careful not to dislodge his hand.

“I think the question you are looking for, Commander, is 'why',” he replied.

Shepard smiled. It was not a forced and borrowed one this time. “Maybe.”

“You are correct in assuming that I can feel the whole ship and crew if I concentrate.” It was not the answer to either of her questions. “It surprises me that apart from you nobody gives a thought about this.”

Shepard remembered their first meeting in the Normandy. He had seemed very calm, kneeling on the floor with his knees, his uncovered knees, touching the floor. No, he had not been worried. He had had no reason to, taking his time to read his environment and its inhabitants while they thought him subdued.

“Well.” Despite her sudden chuckle, Shepard felt the darkness lurking at the back of her mind. She wondered if it would ever go away. She wondered how bad it would have been without Javik's hand still resting on her shoulder.

“The information this yields is very useful to me for understanding the Reapers,” Javik said. “And yourself.”

“If it helps you even a fraction as much as it helps me.” Shepard sighed.

“It does.”

They stood looking at each other for a while. Shepard could feel her inner storms settling, uneasily, unwillingly, ready to break out again at the smallest chance.

“In my cycle traumatic experiences were shared to allow faster coping. The unaffected party could analyse and frame the trauma in ways the concerned party could not. By returning the processed experience, the affected person was given a handle to work on them themselves.”

“Sounds like it would work like a charm,” Shepard replied.

“It was to be done by professionals,” Javik said. “The mind of another person is not to be meddled with, even if they are close to you. Especially if they are.”

Shepard didn't know what to say to that. Because it might be either and she didn't want to embarrass him by assuming the wrong angle. What she wanted, what she actually wanted. She took a long, deep breath.

When she exhaled it against the red-and-gold of his armour, Shepard was not as surprised as she might have been. She was definitely grateful and questioning being read less than might have been warranted. She would not deny herself the longed for respite, even if the reasons for it were questionable.

And if in any way humanly possible, she would not question his motives. She was the spearhead of the fight against the Reapers. Her mental well-being was a part of his mission. She felt the curves of his armour against her face, his arms crossing her back and shoulders. It might be becoming her if she managed not to hold on to him as if she was drowning.

Even if she felt as if she was. The dark ocean of Despoina kept beckoning, reaching out for her to find a cold grave, to be buried under tons of water and forget, be forgotten. But it was not darkness engulfing her now or cold or relentless pressure.

Javik was a great soldier. A good friend and Shepard would leave it at that. She would take what she got. And just being able to share the burden of her experiences like this was a gift. She would not squander it with careless thoughts.

“Fear has left a strong mark on you.” Javik's voice trickled down to her ear.

“It might have been easier if I hadn’t been all alone.” Shepard tried to unclench her hands from his shoulders. “Whatever I was up against in this war, I was never on my own, never all alone.”

“I know. And it is what you fear most.”

Shepard thought about it for a moment. “You may be right.”

“I feel you, Shepard,” Javik replied. “I know I am right.”

A smug bastard to the last. Shepard didn't even mind. He was who he was and despite everything, because of everything, she liked him the way she did. And what did it matter if he knew? Life was what it was. And too short, way too short. The Reapers did not improve on that prospect any. And he was right, she didn't want to be alone. “Stay. Don't leave me.”

“Of course, Commander.”

“This was not an order, Javik.”

“I know.”

He just likes yanking your chain and he knows how totally okay you are with that. Shepard smiled and pushed off his chest. “Good, wouldn't want you to do anything like this under orders.”

“You cannot order me to do anything.” He let go of her. “Unless I let you.”

“Because you are the emperor of a dead people?” She gave him a once-over before walking down the stairs. “Or because you are the last of a dead people and can't be arsed to give a damn?”

“Yes,” he replied, following her. “It is my choice to follow you. The fight against the Reapers is not yours alone.”

“But I have the best chances of winning it.”

“Indeed.”

“So you just follow me around instead of somebody else.” She turned to look at him. “Which is, by the way, an excellent choice.”

Javik did not stop walking until he was standing but an inch away. “I know, Shepard. Which is why I am here.”

On a whim she hugged him again. “Thank you.” She wondered if she should tell him she loved him. Wondered if he knew.

“I know,” he said. “But do.”

Tightening her hold on him, Shepard smiled. “I love you, Javik.”

“Good.” He pried her off gently. “Now go to sleep. You have another hard fight ahead of you tomorrow.”

“When don't I?” Climbing into the bed, Shepard gathered the blankets to her again. “But at least I will sleep well tonight. Safe.”

“Not alone,” Javik agreed.

“Thank you.” Shepard felt a little like a broken record.

“For what?”

“Being there for me.”

Javik looked down at her for a long moment. “Your whole crew is there for you.”

“I know. But,” she faltered under his stare. “You know what I mean.”

“I do indeed. You have made many words about this already.” He settled down next to her. “And yet you have not demanded any in return.”

“I have not.” She curled up against him. And she would not because she was afraid of any answer he might have. Because 'yes' would hurt as much as 'no' would if in a completely different way. No, she would not ask for any answers. Not here, not now. It was enough that his chest was rising and falling against her cheek slowly and that it felt as if he knew exactly what he was doing.

His cycle might have been full of war, leaving little time for anything except battle. Still, with some luck, and then why not, he was Javik after all, though it would only make things harder for him now. Shepard tried to shut down her brain. The past was past, for him more than for everybody. Fifty thousand years had left only traces of his culture, his people, his way of life.

Shepard could only guess what it was like, missing millennia. She had only lost two years. So if he had had, at least there was no chance of him running into his former partner. A blessing. A curse. None of her business. She closed her eyes, nodding of content when he spoke up again.

“In my cycle,” Javik began before stopping himself, “in the last cycle, there has been nobody.”


	4. Shields Down

Shepard lay in bed doing her best to concentrate on wrapping herself up in an impenetrable cocoon. It was not easy. The duvets engulfed her in a cosy warmth, the darkness of her cabin was unbroken but by the soft thrum of engines and the gentle sound of breathing.

Those were probably acceptable things to radiate, though. She took another deep breath. It may also be easier to loose herself in those sensations than try to reign in any thoughts she had. How did you even do that? It did not matter. She chased the thought away. What mattered was to be a calm sea of empty.

Considering the existing hype about telepathic and similar communications, it was somewhat strange how little thought was given on how not to communicate. What if everybody was indeed screaming at the top of their lungs mentally? How could you deal with that except by isolation?

Shepard was glad that this was not her problem. No. Her problem was that she was thinking again. It was just so frustrating. What if she never learnt? No. She must not think like that. It was new. It was difficult. It was not insurmountable. Just relax. Feel the soft cloth against your skin. Bask in the comforting warmth.

Breathe.

And don't, just don't feel put down already. And what were those tears of frustration even doing on the rise?

“You are doing fine, Lysandra.” Javik's voice came out of the dark. One of his hands taking hers under the blankets.

From his lips, her name sounded almost like her rank. It was funny but she liked it. Familiar even in formal settings. Who was she fooling? She just liked the way it sounded when he said it. She just liked the sound of his voice. Him. Her fingers tightened around his. It was not making things easier.

“I know,” Javik said. “But I am the authority on this topic. So you better believe me when I say that you are doing fine.”

“Fine isn't enough,” Shepard sighed. “Fine means I'm not even a leaky cauldron. I'm a sieve. I am sorry.”

The surprising reaction to that was pulling her close. “I know, Lysandra,” he repeated. “Each time I touch you, I know.”

For a split moment, Shepard felt all her frustration threat to burst into a shrapnel shower of guilt and pain. But she subsided, held on to Javik with her eyes closed. There was the darkness, the soft thrum of the engines drowned out by the blood running through his veins and the breath trickling down the side of her head.

Was it asking for too much that this should be her whole world if only for a while? No Reapers. No massacres. No Cerberus. Just the warm silence of a safe haven. And no guilt. No beating herself up over her imperfections. No expectations. Just the calm acceptance of true understanding.

It would be alright. As much as anything could in this war for survival. They would do their best. And they would beat the Reapers no matter the cost. But right here and right now, that didn't matter. All that mattered was the silence embracing them in the gentle darkness. The certainty of each other and a restful night's sleep in this enclosed safety.

“Javik?” She mumbled against his skin.

“Yes?” It was a slow reply, drawn out and heavy with sleep.

“This silence,” Shepard began but didn't get to finish the question nagging at her again.

“It is ours.” Javik cut her off.

Shepard adjusted her position. Maybe that was the secret. Not hers, not his. But a shared condition. Something that only worked between the two of them, with the two of them. A miracle all by itself. And free of nightmares.


	5. Birds, Bees, Protheans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard giving Javik the talk, or at least almost. As usual the Prothean derails the whole thing for his own purposes.

“I do not understand the reason species in this cycle feel the need to exchange body fluids.” Even for Javik that came out of the blue.

“Are you talking about kissing or about sex?”

“Does it matter, Commander?”

“Talking about one of them is going to be a lot more awkward than talking about the other.”

“There is social taboo attached to the exchanges?” Javik rested his hands on the edge of his basin. “Interesting.”

“I wouldn't call it an outright taboo,” Shepard replied. “It is considered a very intimate act so talking about it does feel a lot like opening up.”

“I assumed that the social function of this is nothing personal.”

Shepard didn't know how to feel. Was Javik asking her to give him the talk? Certainly he had been able to work the biological components of it out by himself. Well, the bits still connected to reproduction. Not all intercourse, hell the least of it happened for that reason. She wished she could relegate this to Mordin.

“Well, I can't speak for other species,” Shepard began, “or even for all humans. In general, kisses are seen as a sign of affection. Different kinds of kisses delineating various degrees of affection. You would give acquaintances a peck on the cheek. Anything involving the actual exchange of fluids is reserved for intimate relationships, close or otherwise.”

“I understand that it is experienced as pleasing,” Javik said. “I do not understand why.”

And how was she supposed to explain that? Shepard scratched her head absently. After all she was not into kissing as such either. How do the blind describe colours to those without eyes? “You should talk with somebody else about this,” she finally said. “I don't think I can help you in that.”

“Why not?”

“If you get the theory of it, your guess is as good as mine.” Shepard shrugged. “I mean, I've done it but,” the sentence tapered out as Shepard made some helpless gestures. “It is said to be pleasant. The lips are quite soft, so it's probably nice to have something as soft and warm against them. And the nose in that dent beside the other's nose, Pheromones abound there. And you get an actual taste which helps finding out if the immune systems are compatible.”

“You do not know.” He leant back, scrutinising her.

Shepard crossed her arms before her. “No, I do not know. And I do not care. There's an anthropological explanation that it developed from feeding children pre-chewed foods. And it's kinda obvious why enjoying sex is a good strategy evolution-wise.”

“I did not intend to offend you, Commander.”

“I know, I'm sorry.” Shepard rubbed her temple. “I don't even know if you had anything similar in your cycle. But I don't have answers.” And she didn't like not having answers.

“Nobody can have all the answers.”

“But as Commander, I should have a lot more than other people,” she insisted.

“No.” Javik mirrored her pose, crossing his arms. “Different answers, yes. But not more.”

Shepard blinked, processing that. “Explain.”

“You assume that just because people come to you with questions, you need to have answers for them. But you don't.” He held up a hand. “If you want secret information, you would ask your asari. If you need information about the engines, you ask the engineers. You can delegate your own enquiries.”

“But I do not do that with enquiries that others bring to me,” Shepard mused.

“You do not. It is a mistake,” Javik told her. “Think of the answers that are yours to have and to find. Delegate the rest. You need to concentrate on your own mission.”

And that was killing the Reapers. Beating them. Kicking their sorry arses out of existence. She needed answers on how to do that. She had found some by now, one of them standing right before her. What if he didn't understand the appeal of sex? He was not alone with that and the salarians were doing quite well for themselves without it.

It was not her job to educate him on that. So why ask?

“I can see you have started to think,” Javik said. “Good. I am with my own thoughts.”

Shepard narrowed her eyes. It was a not so subtle hint for her to be gone, but right now she felt no inclination to oblige. Not until she had worked out what was going on here. She stared as the side of Javik's face. He was ignoring her, washing his hands again already.

Why would he do that? She hadn’t even given him an answer. Unless she had, but the question had actually been a completely different one. Something that could well be with that stupid arse of a Prothean and that he considered her capable to figure it out on her own didn't make it any better.

“Are you going to stare at me for the rest of the day, Commander?” Javik asked without looking up.

“Only until I worked out what’s going on here.”

“As you wish.”

Shepard sent Javik a scathing glare that was totally lost on him. She had to think about this logically. Despite knowing about the biological aspects of sex and intimacy, he had asked nevertheless. And she hadn’t actually explained anything about the social or personal components. But how did you explain something like that? People liked it because they liked it. Just like trying to explain how you liked chocolate ice cream better than strawberry. There wasn't really an explanation that worked. Not in general.

Oh.

Well.

Shepard blinked slowly. Then she walked up to the Prothean who was still washing his hands, ignoring her studiously. “You could have asked me directly,” she said with her head right next to his pauldron.

“And what would you have said, Commander?”

“I don't know.” She shrugged. “And now we will never know.”

He was perfectly still for a moment.

Wondering if she had misjudged, Shepard turned around and leant against the basin, watching his face. It was difficult to read. Whatever Protheans had done instead of facial expressions, well they did have the connection through touch. That probably rendered a lot of external communications markers moot.

“It's okay, Javik. I am not going to hold it against you or anything else you say now. You're fifty thousand years out of your own time.”

“I do not want your pity, Commander.”

“That's great because I have none to offer.”

He finally turned his head to look at her. “What do you have to offer?”

Shepard was tempted to cross her arms before her. Instead she gripped the edge of the basin a little tighter. “I hope you noticed that I don't only consider you a valuable member of my team but also a friend.”

He just looked at her without replying.

If this was a start, Shepard didn't know how or where to go from here. “Look, I have no idea how all the body fluids thing was solved in your cycle. I don't think is necessary to be close to somebody.” She didn't add 'you love' because she didn't know how applicable that was. She liked Javik, no doubt. But she liked everybody on her team. It made working with them easier, even if it made losing them harder. So much harder, didn't she know?

“But many people enjoy that kind of thing so it is very present. Still it’s not something that gets explained much. There's children’s' books on the different types of genitalia and how reproduction works for different species. Because growing up with two sexes you wonder how things work with only one or the other way round. I don't think there's manuals like that for the purely enjoyable aspects of interspecies relationships.” Shepard frowned. That couldn't be right, could it? A guide like that would be so useful.

“A pity your books do not cover Protheans.”

Shepard blinked. “Well, I am sure they will add that if you explain things to them. Of course,” she suppressed a giggle, “they will probably see all the proof you have.”

“They would be very disappointed,” Javik replied deadpan. “There is not much to see.”

She couldn't help her laughter bursting out. “Javik!”

“But I shall gladly give my body to science after my death. Or what remains of it,” he added. “There is a good chance I will be blown sky high as you humans say in this endeavour.”

“I will do my best that this doesn't happen to you, I promise.”

“Why, Commander?”

“For science.” Though she tried hard to keep a straight face, Shepard failed. “Look,” she said after calming down again, holding up her left hand.

And he looked. At her, at the hand hovering between them, possibly at the same kaleidoscope of futures she was seeing between her hand and his face. The nod was almost imperceptible, but then so was hers. She closed her eyes briefly when Javik took her hand.

Because she didn't know. Because she hadn't thought, or if she had, hadn't admitted it. And standing here now, touching his hand and mind, she still was not certain about anything. The prospect of having Javik to rely on, regardless, was appealing. Somebody to have her back at all times, close, trusted.

That, of course went both ways. Unlike the experiential exchange which had to be forced to do that. She felt it tingle inside her mind, the knowledge that it was not her doing, that no matter how hard she wished and thought, it was up to Javik to make it happen. A power imbalance that would make her rely heavily on using words.

But she had words, a lot of them. Even if they were as jumbled as the thoughts and emotions coursing through her right now, what did it matter? Clarity had to be achieved. On any level. She came a little closer, entangling the patterns of two lives some more. Human and Prothean, would that even work without the Cipher?

It wouldn't. She knew that now, closing her arms and staring at the mingling chaos. It reminded her of the pictures of crazy coloured swirls, unrecognisable patterns that almost hurt the eye until that moment of clarity when a three dimensional object seemed to pop up from the page. She could see that image now. A shape she had no word for, new but exactly as it should be.

It didn't matter that she didn't know what exactly it was and how it would evolve. It was enough that is existed, a new, beautiful thing that had come from two merged perspectives. Resting her face against Javik's armour, Shepard didn't even try to sort through the experiences surrounding them. She was way too comfortable for that.

Something was different when they let go again; as if the colour of the air had changed. She looked at his eyes, remembering how it was to see with four instead of two, the double pupils adding another layer on the vision as she knew it. Headache-inducing when she thought about it now. Was it the same on his end? Probably. Javik was difficult to understand even while sharing his experiences.

“Are we good, Commander?” It would have been a more unsettling question if he had not held on to the water basin on either side of her.

Shepard smiled. Then she reached out, running her fingers down his neck right where the blue and the red met. “Yes. We're good. Very good.”

“Very good,” he echoed, putting his left arm aside to let her leave.

It was tempting to just stay and return into the comfortable haze the cocoon of shared experiences built. But there was still a war to fight, a war to win, total extinction to avoid. But they were good. Whatever that meant in detail, the overarching idea was clear.

“One more thing,” she said.

“Commander?” His hands stayed on the edge of the basin, not dipping into the water yet.

“Well, two I guess.” She couldn't help smiling. “First, you call me by my first name now. At least in private.”

Javik acknowledged that with a curt nod.

“And secondly,” she took a deep breath, “I really don't think this birds and bees talk went down the way it should. I apologise. So, why don't we start over with that?”

“I do not see what birds and bees have to do with it.”

“Well, let me help you there.” Shepard could feel the mischief rise.

Javik's hands dove into the water. “As I said, I am with my own thoughts.”

And mine, I bet. She didn't say that out loud. “Scared? I think I have my act together now.”

To her surprise, Javik withdrew one hand from the water, flicking drops of water at her.

“Right.” Shepard ignored the cold drop running down her face. “I got the hint. I should go.”


	6. Eloquent Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did you know female Protheans could engage in foreplay using only their eyes? Males could not resist.”
> 
> Was that the truth or the alcohol speaking?

“Is it true, what you said about Prothean women?”

“What did I say, Commander?”

“That they could just look at males and they had to reciprocate their advances.”

Four yellow eyes blinked slowly. “You remember that.”

“I do.” Shepard couldn't suppress a smile. “But you were wasted so I don't know how serious you were.”

“Did you hear me lie before?” Javik asked. “Why would my degree of intoxication influence who I am?”

“Uh, I don't know?” Shepard ventured.

“Then why do you ask this, Commander?”

“It is a common excuse among humans, saying you were drunk, I mean.” She shrugged.

“It is bullshit. You do not change who you are, only how much of it you show, how you represent.” He turned to face her and crossed his arms. “So, why do you ask?”

“I was just wondering. It does sound like a myth.” Shepard scratched herself behind one ear. “There is the myth of irresistible women going around since forever, but so far I have never seen any proof.”

“What did you see?”

Shepard wondered how he knew when she was trying to deflect him. Maybe reading her on Eden Prime had made her an open book to him. And it had not been the last time they had touched, nor did she know how much information the Normandy was handing down to him.

“Mostly whiny men who couldn't keep it in their pants trying to excuse themselves.” There was no reaction. “So,” she went on tentatively, “I guess I was wondering if you're one of them or if there's actually something to it in your cycle.”

“I see.” There might have been the shortest of smiles playing around Javik's mouth. “Which answer would you prefer?”

The same question he had asked Liara on Thessia. Shepard almost snorted. “The one that is true.”

“And how would you know?”

Shepard narrowed her eyes. Then she held up her hands threateningly.

“The experiential exchange does not work like that, Commander,” Javik replied unperturbed.

“I will make it so.” Shepard hoped that her glare was at least having some effect on the Prothean.

“You are doing a good imitation of a Prothean female trying to instigate intercourse,” he said.

Though she did want to abruptly change her whole bearing, Shepard decided against it. She would not be played like that. “I am not and you know it,” she replied. “I don't even have enough eyes.”

“The number of eyes does play a part,” Javik conceded. “But we were fighting a war of survival. You might be amazed how many of us lost limbs or some of our eyes.”

The image of a Prothean eye patch was quite something. Shepard pushed it away quickly. “So that was actually working?”

“I am uncertain,” he replied. “There seemed to be proof for the case. But the women it was attributed to, had no need for such tricks.”

Shepard relaxed again. “That might be a good disguise, though. I mean, if I had that power, I'd want to cover it up. Probably.”

“Then this conversation is moot, Commander.” Javik returned his attention back to the water.

“That is a very unsatisfactory answer,” Shepard said.

“Are not most answers in this realm?” He turned his head slightly. “What did you expect?”

That was not an easy one to answer. Shepard had been curious about this ability. The power imbalance would be tremendous and the consequences of abuse severe. And hypnosis did exist in this cycle as well. There was no knowing if female Protheans hadn't mastered that art for their own purposes. And considering the men were all very caught up in fighting the Reapers, the survival of the species might have been endangered even if they had won.

“It is much easier to influence another through touch,” Javik's voice broke into her thoughts. “The exchange of experiences should be equal but with practice it can be used to overwhelm the mind of the other.”

“That makes for useful interrogation,” Shepard said. “And I can see where it may easily be applied in other areas. How did your people keep that in check?”

“We had laws, Commander.” Javik became defensive. “And as your cycle, we had law enforcement. How do you keep people from stealing or killing?”

That wasn't really an answer. Shepard knew that law enforcement only worked so well and that some would always find ways to explore loopholes, niches or way to straight out break the laws. Expecting Prothean law enforcement to work perfectly was falling into Liara's trap of idolising them beyond reason.

“It just seems so very invasive,” she finally said. “Messing with somebody else's head.”

“Like the Reapers do?” Javik asked.

“It doesn't look that akin to Indoctrination,” Shepard said. “Not if the effects abate when the connection is broken.”

And where did you draw the line anyway? Parents indoctrinating their children so they would comply with the requirements of their society? That definitely did not rely on touch and did not decrease over time or distance. Where was the line between influencing somebody and indoctrinating them? Who got to decide which was which?

The world was divided into the just and the unjust; the just got to make this distinction. Once you got to this point everything was relative and nothing was right or wrong any longer. How could you live in a world like that? Shepard tried to shake the images but even shaking her head did little to dislodge them.

“How common was the overwhelming as an interrogation tactic?”

“Among law enforcement?” Javik asked back, but answered his own question immediately. “It was a last resort. Among the lawless it was a very common tactic. Experienced invaders would not even leave much trauma in their victims for professionals to find.”

Shepard hugged herself involuntarily. “You are a very dangerous person, Javik.”

“And you realise this only now?” His tone made up for his inability to raise a brow.

“There are more dangers about you than expected,” Shepard said. “I knew you're an artist on the battlefield. Your biotics are a nicely lethal, a show I very much enjoy. But this, this is something else entirely.”

“Do you worry about when I read you on Eden Prime?” Javik asked.

Shepard wanted to deny it, but she also didn't want to lie. And then there had been other times he had touched her. Helpful, protective, steadying, saving. But touched nevertheless. “But the effect does abate,” she replied.

“As far as I know, Commander. It was not my field of expertise. I was trained to kill things not change them.”

Not that one excluded the other. She couldn't help but staring at the Prothean. They had been messing with each others' minds on a daily basis. How did you casually stop doing that? Not that she had seen him touch a lot of people. What if he didn't even notice? If he implicit expected the other mind to fight back, or hold back, or whatever?

“Commander?” His face came into focus, a lot closer than it had been. “You are using your eyes again.”

Bullshit. The word didn't make it past her thoughts. She was human. She didn't know how to even stare a four-eyed Prothean, much less, well. “You said there was no proof.”

“This might be it, Commander.” His head seemed to hover just before hers.

Shepard blinked. She blinked again, but it didn't help. As if her eyes returned to glaring at Javik from their own volition.

His hand clasped her shoulder and the world took a breath. “You carry the Cipher, the understanding of my whole people. But you do not control it, Commander, not wholly.”

If that wasn't the truth. Right now Shepard felt as if the weight of the whole Prothean evolution was pushing against the back of her eyes. The whole civilisation pressed into one mind. A mind that tried to work out what was possible for a Prothean. A woman's mind working out what was possible for a Prothean woman. With a test subject standing just before her.

A civilisation that had always seen itself as justified in its actions. The strong prevailed, the weak yield, surrendered or were obliterated. So what if she found that power within her? Why should she not use it? Provided she could. The Cipher was whispering at thee back of her head.

Her eyes fell on Javik's hand around her shoulder. They followed the length of his arm, down and around those impossible pauldrons, up his neck. He was hers to take. Her right hand settled on his neck, pushing his chin up with her thumb. So this was the power she had. Her eyes bored into his. Not an easy feat seeing how he had twice as many.

But she knew she could stare him down. Because the women of his people could. They had held this power. All she had to do now was overwhelm his mind with her experiences, her wishes and desires.

Shepard let go with an amused huff and took a step backwards. That was not likely to happen. The Cipher helped her understand the Protheans, but no matter how much she believed to be one, she was not. In an experiential exchange, she would always draw the short end of the stick.

“Do you have your answer now, Commander?” Javik had dropped his hand to his side again.

“Don't you know it?” Shepard smiled.

“Does it matter?”

“It does, Javik.” She ran a hand over her face. “And the answer is yes.”

“I hope it does not offend you that despite your best effort, I did not feel any attraction to you.” He returned to the water basin.

“Neither did I,” Shepard said. “So I may be to blame for it.”

“Then you were obviously doing it wrong, Commander.”

“Oh, I wouldn't know.” She smiled. “It felt perfectly fine to me.”

“So you say.” He did not sound convinced.

“Javik, if I wanted to bang you, I'd tell you. And if you were not interested that would be it.” Shepard snorted. “Even if I was interested in intercourse, I can't imagine forcing anybody into it. Even if they thought it was their own idea.”

“And there you have another of your answers, Commander.” Javik allowed himself a smug almost smile as he dipped his hands into the water.

“So I do.” But of course the system was not perfect. Just as it was not perfect here. Those who wanted to break the rules would always find ways to do so. And they would always find ways to cover it up. It might be a myth that Prothean women could force their men into intercourse by merely looking at them. And if it wasn't, who would gain anything by letting it be known?

“Sometimes I just wish you had a less hands-on approach to these lessons.”

“No, Commander, you don't.”

“Actually, I do,” Shepard objected. “I just change my mind in hindsight. I don't like not knowing where you are going with something.”

“If I told you in advance, how could you discover for yourself?”

He was incorrigible. And that was alright. Shepard watched his compulsive washing of his hands for a bit with a smile. “I should go.”

As usual, there was no reply. But then, there was non necessary. She would be back. They both knew it.


	7. Awkward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confession time. Of course it is awkward.

“Commander.”

It was amazing how Javik could communicate his wish to talk to her through a simple change in pronunciation. “Something the matter, Javik?”

There was a long pause. “It is a difficult topic for me to breach,” he finally said.

Shepard had to suppress a smirk. The idea that there was anything that could make the Prothean uncomfortable was too precious. So far nothing had been able to faze him. This should be good. “Take your time.”

And he did. “In this cycle the most advanced races are those that were still primitive in mine, barely more than animals if that far evolved.”

Shepard nodded. That was nothing new. Javik had been amazingly good at affronting everybody he met with this attitude. Maybe the reactions had finally gotten to him.

“It is still a matter of concern.” His fingers twitched on the edge of his water basin. “Despite your accomplishments, your civilisations are still primitive compared to the Prothean Empire.”

But unlike the Prothean Empire, their cultures were still alive. Shepard didn't say that. Her time travelling two years into the future, if only metaphorically, had been difficult enough. Technology didn't stop and people certainly didn't either. “We do what we can,” she provided non-committally.

“That is not helpful,” Javik replied. “Quite the opposite. Your best is far from good enough.”

Shepard wondered where he was be going with that and if her patience for his supremacy would run out before he reached his point. “We are still closer to beating the Reapers than your people were. Maybe we have just developed in other directions.”

“Maybe.” The explanation seemed to be doing nothing for his internal conflict. “Regardless, I find myself,” he stopped searching for a word, “attracted to some persons in this cycle.”

It was more than difficult to keep a straight face. Knowing she'd burst out laughing otherwise, Shepard took the time to nod wisely. “That is only normal. You work closely with us, share our ship. I am sorry if burgeoning friendships with primitives worry you. Personally, I think it's a great development.”

“Do you?” Four double-pupilled eyes focussed on her.

“Of course.” Shepard crossed her arms before her. “It's good to fight alongside those you trust. You're a great soldier, Javik, one of the best in your cycle and this one. I hate to see you so disconnected from everybody around you.”

“I focus on the fight.”

“Yes, but what will you do when we have won?” Of course she couldn't be sure they did win, or that either of them would be alive to see it. But if it helped pry that stubborn Prothean out of his isolation, she'd lie 'til the cows came home.

“It is not something I think about.” He returned his gaze back to the waters.

“Maybe you should. And having friends to come back to, to stay with,” Shepard shrugged, “I find it incredibly helpful.”

“Maybe.” For a while he said nothing, his fingers tensing and relaxing around the edge of the water basin. “It is not what I was attempting to communicate, though.”

No matter what that big problem of his was, he would talk about it. Shepard had given him the opportunity to back out on a tangent. But if the Prothean didn't want to speculate about the end of the war, there was nothing for it but for him to come clean. “What were you trying to say?”

“My attraction seems to be stronger than friendship.”

Oh dear. Images flashed through Shepard’s mind. That was trouble. Especially since all she could see what Javik arguing with everybody. Except Liara, though in return he was also arguing especially vehemently with the asari.

“Is that a problem?” Shepard stepped around the basin, looking at Javik from it's head.

“I do not know.” The tips of his fingers reached towards the water, barely touching the surface before retracting. “I am not used to this kind of attraction.”

“To another person or to a primitive?”

Javik glared at her. “The latter, Commander.”

If only she had been able to laugh. Shepard tried to hide it, taking a deep breath. Where was Kelly Chambers when you needed her? “I don't think I can help you there, Javik. I am sorry. Maybe it will help to keep in mind that at least they're not a vorcha?”

“Your assumed hierarchy of sophistication means nothing,” Javik replied. “The vorcha were not developed enough to strike even our interest in the last cycle. They are new. That makes it easier to deal with them.”

Okay, time for plan B. Too bad she didn't have one. “Have you tried telling them?”

“Of course. They seem unresponsive, oblivious.”

Well, that didn't sound like Liara at all. One would think she'd jump at the opportunity of a real, live Prothean. Maybe actually meeting one had cooled her fire. “You ended up arguing, didn't you?”

There was no reply, just another glare.

“I'd really love to help you, Javik.” She shook her head. “People are just so different. What would calm Liara might send Tali into fit. Just, in general, arguing might not be the best way to go about it. Even if it seems to be the only way you can talk.”

“I understand, commander.” He gazed into the water for a long time and Shepard wondered if she better just leave. “And if I had required advice on the asari or quarian, be assured I would have gone to them.”

Shepard narrowed her eyes. After opening her mouth to reply, she thought about that. It took a while to shut it again.

“They were just examples,” she finally got out. Shepard clamped her lips together before adding Garrus to the motley mix of examples. Javik had asked her after all, so that left only humans. Maybe it was Traynor. She was damn good looking in that uniform and her accent was lovely.

“I know.” He looked up. “It is amazing how you are able to completely miss the obvious.”

Shepard was about to be offended. After staring at Javik for a while across the basin, she thought better of that too. Maybe this was the appropriate time to vaporise the water in the basin with the fierce heat of her embarrassment and sneak out in the resulting fog.

“Maybe.” This might have been a good moment to move. Still Shepard stood transfixed, staring at the Prothean. How did that even happen? And what was she going to do about it? Maybe saying that she needed time to process that would help. She almost barked out a slightly desperate laugh.

“If you think about saying that you may have developed abilities in other directions, don't.”

“Okay, I won't.” Shepard nodded. The motion finally broke the eye contact. She took a deep breath. “What about I say nothing and go think about it?”

Javik nodded. “Perhaps you will come to a more sensible solution.”

Shepard doubted that but was too busy trying not to look as if she was running for her life when she fled his quarter to worry about it. What did he expect? She was a primitive, a talking monkey performing tricks.

At least she could postpone concerning herself with that subject for a while. She had not said how long she would think on it. Forever, if possible.


	8. And Distressing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to Awkward

The beacon screamed though her dreams, mingling with the memories of the last battle of the Prothean People. Shepard tossed and turned, caught up in half-remembered nightmares and her blankets. The extinction of a species screeched in her ears. Red lasers bathed her whole life in a deadly pink glow.

Green biotics flared, mingling with the red and turning the world into a brown pulp. Shepard gasped for air, trying to break her stasis. But the tortured flesh opened, gaping like a mouth with thick trails of slobber veiling the underlying tech only thinly.

When Shepard tried to duck away, she was woken by a sharp pain in her shoulder. She blinked into the dimness of her cabin, the blue light from the aquarium shedding barely enough light to outline her surroundings. The blanket had twisted around her tightly, pulling against her hurting shoulder even now.

She unwrapped herself carefully, making sure the shoulder was not dislocated. What a nightmare. Shepard wasn't certain it was better or worse than running through the grey forest of whispering shadows only to watch that child burn again. On the one hand it was only one child against the whole Prothean civilisation. On the other hand it was a lot more personal.

Shepard got up and slapped some medi-gel onto her shoulder. The pain receded into a dull throb approaching the frequency her head was using to make its displeasure known. This better be over soon. It was starting to eat away at her.

She looked around her room, considering an additional painkiller for her headache. Maybe she could go back to sleep then. Not that there was much left of her night. She sat down on the couch, picking up the datapad she had been reading before going to bed. The words crawled over the surface like little drunk millipedes. She dropped it and put her head in her hands instead.

It was probably Javik. That stupid, stupid Prothean bugman. How had it even come to this? If only she could shrug it off as not her problem. Why the fuck couldn't that stupid idiot develop feelings for Liara? That might have worked out beautifully. Of all the crew, Liara had also sought out contact with him the most, was most open and encouraging.

Had she done anything to encourage him? And if so, had she been encouraging everybody on her crew? No. She was kind to some and friendly to some, and polite to everybody. Mostly. If Javik had taken that the wrong way, she couldn't help him. And anyway in that case he should be more attracted to Liara anyway.

Also, what solution, did he expect her to come up with? Emotional lobotomy? That was unethical even if it was possible. Not that she needed it. Oh, certainly her feeling for the Prothean were completely friendly. Admittedly, ever since they had thawed him on Eden Prime she had felt responsible for him. After all he was the only one left of his people; a loneliness, Shepard wanted to allevaite as well as possible.

Of course there was also the natural curiosity about his people. The Protheans had been legend, an extinct species of outstanding intelligence and sophistication. Not that Javik ft that bill as expected. Oh, he was sophisticated on the battlefield, no doubt about that. The way he could tear through a phalanx of enemies was past comparison.

But apart from that? He had that thing where he could exchange memories and knowledge by just touching you or objects. It worried Shepard as much as it piqued her interest. How was life if there were few secrets? What was it like to actually know people's minds and thoughts even if they didn't intend you to? Was it possible to know them better than they did themselves?

It was possible, was it not? Shepard turned over. People were exceptionally good at lying to themselves. She only had to look at herself. How much she had denied to be working for Cerberus when that had been exactly what she had been doing. She had severed ties after defeating the Collectors but until then, full-fledged denial.

So what about Javik? That stupid Prothean emperor bunking in her cargo bay. She had not asked for that. She had no resisted it either. She was actually glad he was there. No matter how you looked at it, Javik was a real asset. And depending on how you looked at it, also a friend. And a good one at that.

Everything else...

Shepard laid back with a deep sigh, closing her eyes. It was not her problem. No matter how Javik ended up feeling about her, it was not her responsibility to resolve his conflicts. And she owed him nothing. Well, good leadership admittedly and preferably a victory against the Reapers. But apart from that, she owed him nothing.

Still. Should she, which was not a given and very much to be disputed, but in case she did feel a certain attraction to the Prothean, well. Who could blame her? There were undeniable parallels in their histories. Which didn't really matter because, unfortunately, she did like the vengeful fighter he was. Bent on the destruction of the Reapers with nothing else in his sight. Except.

Yeah, except. It would probably pass. She was the leader of the war against the Reapers. It was to be expected that he identified with her somewhat. Or something similar. Shepard rolled out of the bed and hit the floor with a frustrated groan.

Who was she trying to fool, exactly? Javik, obviously. Not that it seemed to have worked. Herself, naturally. Which also looked like a spectacular fail. Slowly she untangled herself from the blankets. She still needed a solution.

It didn't come to her as she put on her fatigues. It didn't come to her as she fed her fish. It certainly didn't come to her during the elevator ride down to the engineering deck. Probably because that was only taking half the time it usually did. No time for anything. Definitely not thinking on what she was doing. She stopped outside the door to the port cargo bay.

Because she was not fooling anybody. Not even Javik. Especially not Javik. He was here to kill Reapers. That and that alone was his mission. To expect more was folly. To receive more was a gift. To feel more – Shepard closed her eyes for a moment – to feel more was what it was.

The door opened before she had even touched it. “Commander.”

Javik was awake, facing her from what looked like a nest built on the ground. Shepard had actually never seen a bunk in his quarter, but until now she had not thought about it. A host of blankets had been implemented to built what looked to be a rather comfy fort.

“I have been thinking,” she said, taking a tentative step forwards.

“So it would seem.” He rested one hand on the ground.

Shepard watched it closely, wondering if he was reading her as she approached. If so, he didn't say a word. He also did not complain abut being woken in the middle of the night. She sat down heavily next to his bed. It wasn't that she didn't want to sit down inside the confinement of blankets. It was just - her eyes stopped somewhere down his arm, realising that the black of his suit had been replaced by the mottled blue of skin.

And if this was the last night ever, she asked herself, what would you regret? Not to fall asleep here, in the questionable safety of a blanket fort in the middle of the floor of her port cargo bay. Not to let the last of the Protheans know that he wasn't alone. Without thinking she raised a hand and barely managing to stop it an inch before his skin.

“This is your solution?” Javik looked at her, his four eyes blinking out of sync.

“I have no solution,” Shepard replied. She slowly retracted her hand, putting it down against the metal next to his.

“If you have no solution, what do you have?” Javik wanted to know.

Shepard looked at her hand against the grey metal for a while. “Hope,” she finally said. “I have hope.”

“And will that be enough?” He reached out and turned her face to look at him gently.

“No,” Shepard admitted with a sad smile.

“And does that matter?”

Shepard suppressed a snort. “No. No it does not. Because without hope there is nothing but with hope alone there is nothing as well. We will always have to build on it.” She put her own hand over his. “Build with me, Javik. Build something on this hope we share.”

For a moment Shepard wondered how to easiest get out of the fatigues without loosing touch, then she laughed. Because it didn't matter. Javik was making space in his well-protected fort of blankets but even with just their fingertips touching, no it didn't matter.

“Will you be able to sleep?” Shepard asked, considering the turmoil in her mind.

“I will sleep embracing hope,” Javik replied.

Shepard wished she could give him more than that. But he was the last of his people and there was no future for them, however much she wished. There wasn't even much hope for them either, together or separated. And still, curled up against his steady heartbeat, the only thing Shepard considered changing was maybe moving into her cabin, using her bed because despite the many blankets the floor was hard under them.

“You didn't have to tell me,” she murmured against his chest, just where the red of his throat came to a point. “It might have spared us a lot of pain.”

“Indeed.” there was no remorse in his voice. “It would also have spared us this.”

Shepard didn't know ow much of her he read, simply holding her close. All of her, she suspected. No need to lie. So what if this was it? If there was only tomorrow and a quick death at the Reapers' hands? This moment, this closeness was something nobody could take. It was theirs and whatever happened, it was worth it.

Closing her eyes, Shepard relaxed. So maybe she did need a broad hint. But who would expect meeting a real Prothean, much less falling for them? Nobody, that's who. She could be forgiven. And she was. And right here, right now, that was all that mattered.


	9. 4 Lies and 1 Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javik betrays Shepard, big time.   
> But at least the Reapers are all dead in the end, right?

1.

“Commander.”

Shepard didn't know what to make of Javik's unexpected visit in her cabin. The Prothean was approachable enough but he had never shown any interest in instigating conversation on his own. And after he had touched the Memory Shard he had become uncharacteristically quite. It was strange not to hear his outspoken opinion on her decisions.

The incident weighed on her. She had encouraged him to use the Memory Shard, feel the stored memories and she had seen the pain it had caused him. Shepard hope it would not lead to an irreparable breach in their friendship. That was fragile enough. She had given him time and maybe now she would find out.

“What brings you up here?” She leant back, allowing his eyes to sweep the room. They slowed down along the aquarium before coming to rest on her. Shepard wondered how the differences were between feeling the place through the information touching the Normandy gave him and the input of his eyes.

“We must talk.” His eyes narrowed. “About the Crucible.”

“Of course.” Shepard gestured towards the lounge. “Is there anything in specific on your mind?”

“Yes.” Javik walked towards the couches, stared at them for a moment before sitting down on the very edge of one. “There was something on the Memory Shard.”

“I'm listening.” Shepard sat down opposite him. She had no idea how the Memory Shard worked. Even with the Cipher, the images Javik sent her always turned fuzzy as soon as he let go of her. It must be strange to to have true experiences and memories transferred that way.

“You were on our research facility on Ilos,” Javik began.

Shepard nodded encouragingly. “Yes.”

“It was only a myth in my time, but not to all soldiers before me. In the memory Shard,” he hesitated, “one of its owners knew a lot about Ilos. The work done there. Not just on the Conduit, but also on the Crucible. The Catalyst, to be precise.”

“They knew about the Catalyst?” It was difficult not to jump at the Prothean and shake him until he continued. The scientists were still completely stumped about that part of the Crucible. Otherwise it was almost finished. “What is it?”

“I do not know,” Javik replied. “The Memory Shard had no recollections of that. It holds the memories of soldiers. But the scientists on Ilos had their won Shards.”

“We didn't find any.” Shepard sighed. “For two years scientists have turned everything upside down there.”

“You do not know where to look. And, “Javik held her glance for a while, “you are not Prothean. You cannot find them or get past the security surrounding them. Those Memory Shards hold the knowledge of our leading scientists through centuries. They have not been left lying around.”

“But you know where they are and what security surrounds them.” It was hard not to get excited.

“Indeed.” he didn't speak for a while. “I had to use the memory Shard again to get all details. It was just a fleeting notion before.”

“I'm sorry, Javik. After the first time-” Shepard broke off. “You didn't have to do that.”

“You're wrong.” He blinked slowly. “It is my mission, my only goal to see the Reapers defeated. I will do anything to achieve that.”

“Still.” She put a hand on his arm shortly. “Thank you. It cannot have been easy.”

“It will be worth it once we have the Catalyst.”

“Agreed. I will get Joker to set a course for Ilos immediately.”

“Thank you, commander.” Javik got up.

“No, I have to thank you, Javik. You have lost so much and have still given us much to help.” Shepard sighed. “And I have not been able to do much for you in return.”

“I have seen two reapers die already, defeated with little but your intelligence.” Javik smiled and showed his needle teeth. “You are doing what you can. And in the end that will mean an end to the Reapers. It is all I ask.”

Shepard wished she had his faith in their victory. Since Thessia the constant nagging of self-doubt had not abated. But with the Catalyst at their fingertips... “We will win,” she said. “I will make sure of it.”

 

 

2.

Ilos didn't look as if anything had changed in the past years. It was misleading, of course. Hordes of scientists had visited the places, tried to pry more secrets out of the stone and broken remains of the Prothean facility. They had not found much of importance and over time the interested had let up again.

Shepard looked down the hallways. The vegetation was already covering up the tracks of numerous makos that had torn it open. Still big chunks cut from the trees to gain access to passages and rooms were still visible, gaping reminders of more frenzied times.

She followed Javik through the maze. He kept turning his head this way or that, closing his eyes and touching the walls and floor for guidance, trying to remember a path that had been lost fifty thousand years ago. Several times they had to retrace their steps because the corridors had caved in, filled in or in one case been submerged. It was slow going.

Finally they reached an array of small rooms that resembled a living area. Remains of re-purposed pod scattered the ground. Javik stopped there for a long time, feeling the walls and ground with closed eyes.

“It is no good, Commander,” he finally said. “The security system does not accept you as a Prothean.”

That had been a danger all along. Shepard had hoped the Cipher would be enough. “It's okay. I'll back off. Let me know when to return.”

“Yes, Commander.” Javik turned his back to her, putting his palms against the wall again.

The security set-up was y complete mystery. The power in this place had been out for millennia. In the end even Vigil who had been the last piece of tech running had to shut himself down. But the experiential markers were still up and running somehow. As if memory was indeed the only thing that could endure through all time. It was a hopeful and scary thought.

That Javik was able to access the echoes of those long dead, the ghosts of his own people had to be a painful reminder of his loss to him. Not to mention that it did look like a miracle form the outside. Shepard stopped and put her own hands against the cold stone. Nothing happened. How would it be, to be able to feel past generations in it? The more she thought about it, the more she realised that it might indeed be more painful than uplifting. You remembered pain more readily. And the dead always outnumbered the living.

“Shepard!” Only silence followed the call.

It worried her that he had used her name and nothing else. Javik used the position or rank as designation, rarely did any name pass his lips. They were likely reserved for less primitive lifeforms.

Shepard sprinted back to his position, finding Javik transfixed n the middle of the room, a Memory Shard clutched in his outstretched hand. She waved her hand before his eyes a few times, but there was no reaction.

“Javik!” She took his arms, but that was a mistake. Immediately, Shepard was sucked up into a maelstrom of images. The extinction of the Protheans was prominent in them, the screaming of a tortured species, slowly turned into husks and other abominations. Technology intruded on them, encroached on their bodies and slowly took over everything, corrupting life itself.

Almost hidden among the colourful terrors were images of Ilos, of the Citadel, and starlit skies of foreign constellations- Pieces of blueprints wafted through the vision, reminding Shepard of the ones she had seen of the Crucible. But in their midst was a red dot, burning through the mist and just beyond her grasp. Shepard wanted to throw herself at it, retrieve it at any cost, even that of her own sanity.

“Commander.” Javik's fingers dug deep into her arms, bringing her back to the present.

Shepard blinked.

“Are you alright?” The pain receded a little as he loosened his grip.

“Yes. I am, I am here.” Shepard nodded. “I, I saw it. Almost. I couldn't make sense of it, though.”

“Of course not.” Javik let go of her. “You are not Prothean. The Cipher cannot amend this completely.”

“But you understood it?” Shepard tried to keep her hopes down.

“Of course.” Javik turned on his omni-tool, calling up the Crucible's schematics. “The Crucible is only the command unit of a bigger construction.” Another image came up.

“The Citadel,” Shepard breathed. “The Crucible is docked to its middle spike.”

“Correct.” the two images merged. “After the Crucible is attached to the Citadel, the Catalyst will trigger the energy pulse that will destroy the Reapers.”

“But what is the Catalyst?” Shepard asked.

“Not what,” Javik replied, turning off his omni-tool. “Who.”

“Who?” Her brow furrowed. “That is not making any sense.”

“Quite contrary, Commander. It does make horrible sense.” Javik began to walk away slowly. “The Crucible has been built cycle after cycle, improved by each species that worked on it. But they all were unable to build the Catalyst. Because it cannot be built. It has to grow naturally in the cycle, a part of it, ready to decide its future.”

“But why?” And Why me? Shepard didn't ask the latter.

“Because the destruction of the reapers will change the galaxy for forever. They have harvested the intelligent species for as long as forever. If the cycle ends, this will change the galaxy fundamentally.” Javik turned to look at her. “Whatever the reason to start the cycle was, it has to be decided by a capable individual, that its purpose is over.”

Shepard tried to wrap he head around it. The Leviathans had said something similar. That they had created the Reapers to save all life at any cost. It was not reasoning that made sense to her. “How would such an individual even develop?”

“As you did,” Javik replied. “Forced with the knowledge and responsibility to lead this war. Faced with the opportunities for good as well as evil. Ready to win at any cost, not ready to let the soul of this cycle suffer for it. You would win this war with your honour intact.”'

”I would,” she said. And it was true. Javik had given up on the notion that the war could be won honourably already. His whole people had. What if that was the secret? Not to give up. To be willing to sacrifice everything but that. It didn't really matter, did it? As long as it worked, Shepard was willing to do whatever it took. Almost. A tiny difference that might be crucial to the galaxy's survival.

 

 

3.

“But the Reapers have the Citadel,” Shepard said. “They have dragged it across the galaxy and put it above Earth for whatever reasons.”

It would be most difficult to get into it. Earth was still suffering under the brunt of the Reaper attacks. And even if they reached Earth, the arms of the Citadel were closed. There was so much she had to discuss with Anderson. Her head was spinning.

“It does not matter,” Javik said. “We can easily reach it from here.”

“How?”

“We can use the Conduit.” His tone implied that she was a moron for not thinking about that.

“It shut down after we used it to go to the Citadel,” Shepard objected. “The scientists never managed to get it up and running again. Whatever Saren did-”

“Does not matter. Commander, please.” Javik stopped short and took her arms again.

A flood of images overwhelmed her momentarily. But the gist was clear. Saren had know from the Peapers themselves. Javik knew from the Memory Shard, the collective memories, experiences and knowledge of the scientists of Ilos. She blinked and nodded. “I am sorry.”

“I understand that the concept is difficult for you to grasp.” He took off at a faster stride now.

“What about the power it will need?” Shepard caught up.

“There is a small back-door to the Conduit,” Javik replied. “It may be unnecessary to power up the whole mechanism.”

“Right. I'll tell Joker and Admiral Anderson about it.” Shepard tried to get her omni-tool working while half- running after the Prothean.

“Do that.” Javik didn't slow down. “The sooner they leave for the Citadel, the sooner they can back up us there.”

“Don't tell me,” she sighed. “The Conduit's back door is also rigged for Protheans.”

“Of course, Commander.” There was actual annoyance in his voice. “We could not risk anybody else to use it. The Reapers had infiltrated every species in my cycle. “Even indoctrinated Protheans were unlikely to be accepted. I just pray that the Cipher will do the trick in your case.”

Because otherwise it would be a very short trip. She wondered if there were other ways to get into the Citadel. As long as its arms were closed it would be very difficult to punch a hole into it even if it only had to be big enough to allow her to wriggle in. On top of that, the Reapers were controlling the space around the Citadel. A suicide mission even worse than taking out the Collectors.

“Joker, patch me through to Anderson and Hackett.” Javik had found some kind of hidden door and was working on opening it. “And stay in the channel, I don't want to have to repeat myself.”

“Roger that, Commander. Patching you through.” There was a string of crackling noises.

“Shepard,” Anderson's voice was laced with static.

“Commander, what is it?” Hackett's voice didn't fare any better.

“I'm on my way to the Citadel,” Shepard said. “I don't have time to explain in detail. Javik found memories in his Echo Shard that led him to the Shard with the collective knowledge of the Prothean scientists on Ilos. We have the Catalyst.”

She would have loved to talk about that in more detail, but a part of the wall before them slipped to the side and Javik took up his fast pace again. “Get the Crucible ready to dock. We'll end this war. Now.”

“Are you certain, Commander?” Hackett wanted to know. “Our scientists are still uncertain about anything concerning the Catalyst except that it is connected to the Citadel.”

“I know.” She took a deep breath. “And if it wouldn't lead to a discussion longer than this cycle might have, I would explain why that is only reasonable, considering the new data I have. Let's just say they were looking in the completely wrong direction. The Catalyst is as much a part of the Citadel as the Citadel is a part of the Crucible.”

“That does not make much sense, but I will trust you on this, Shepard.” He didn't sound happy. Shepard couldn't blame him. But they had played so much in this war by ear, that one last effort wouldn't matter.

“How can we help you?” Anderson wanted to know.

“I am not sure yet,” Shepard replied. “Once inside we will open the arms so the Crucible can dock. Then I just have to find out what to do. But I have Javik and his head full of scientist with me. I will be fine.”

“Acknowledged. We will stage a distraction down here as soon as the arms begin to move,” Anderson said. “Let's hope it is the last diversion in this war.”

“I will assemble the fleets to escort the Crucible,” Hackett added. “I hope you know what you are doing, Commander.”

Shepard could only agree. But there was no reason to worry the two men any more. “I will not let you down,” she promised. “The war will end today.”

“What do you want us to do, Commander?” Joker spoke up as soon as the two Admirals had signed off.

“Go to the Citadel, see if you can help Hackett,” she ordered. “And make sure you can send backup to us into the Citadel ASAP.”

“Copy that, Commander.” Joker signed off and silence descended again.

“Have you arranged everything to your satisfaction?” Javik asked.

“Yes, they will be ready.” Shepard looked at the strange machine before them It did not resemble a Mass Relay the least. “How does this work?”

“It would take too long to explain the physics to you,” Javik said almost smiling. “Suffice it to say that it will enable travel to the Citadel from here. If you would help me get it up and running.”

“Of course, what do I do?” The procedure was not that complicated. It did take more than one person though and sometimes she had to swap tasks with Javik because the apparatus would not accept her as Prothean. Shepard began to worry.

“You will pass through first,” Javik alleviated her fears. “That way I will still be with you if the Conduit refuses you.”

“Good idea.” The machine lit up in an eerie blue glow. It resembled Prothean architecture with its slim planes and gentle curves. Other than that, it didn't look like anything she had seen before. But since the Protheans hand' built the Mass Relays after all, maybe she shouldn't be surprised.

“Are you ready, Commander?” Javik emphasised the question by checking on his weapons.

Doing the same, Shepard ran a check-list through her mind. But nothing came to mind that needed immediate attention. Once they were done with this, oh there would be so much to do. But right here, right now, all that mattered was defeating the reapers. “Ready when you are.”

“After you, Commander.”

Shepard took a step into the blue glow. It did little but eat away the layers of her very essence.

 

 

4.

Shepard felt as if she had been stretched out across the whole galaxy and then rolled up wit it into a very complicated knot. The tension rose and then erupted in an explosion of coloured sound, leaving her quivering and gasping on her hands and knees. Maybe there was a reason nobody had ever used a Mass Relay without any kind of vehicle.

She blinked the world back into focus. The passage they had ended up in was lit by a glow so dim it barely illuminated outlines. The light had a reddish tint, making everything look foreign and threatening.

“Commander, are you alright?” Javik leant down, holding out a hand.

Shepard allowed him to pull her upright. He didn't look very battered at all. Maybe the Conduit had been tailored to Prothean physiques. It would make sense. “I am okay. How about you? This was a wild ride.”

“I am experiencing vertigo,” he replied. “But it is already abating. Can you move?”

“Vertigo, huh?” Shepard made a few stumbling steps forwards. “I'll let you know when I'm down to simple vertigo.”

They proceeded in silence for a while. Shepard concentrated on not falling on her face and neither reaching out for Javik's support every other step. The passage rose, leading them past maintenance and ventilation shafts. There was no sound apart of their footfall and breathing. Shepard had expected more bodies lying around from what she had seen at the Collector ship and base. The cleanness of the genocide made her skin crawl. It also worried her that she couldn't raise Anderson or Hackett on the comm.

“The Reapers are likely jamming the Citadel,” Javik said. “Let us hope we can open the arms and that that will be enough of a sign for the others to read.”

“Agreed.” They turned another corner, finding themselves in a control centre all of a sudden. “Now this is weird.”

“If you imply that it is not making sense, I agree.” Javik looked around. “I will not complain, if it does the job, though.”

“You and me both.” Shepard surveyed the control boards. The writing on it was strange. “It certainly isn't anything the authorities know about. They would have done some translations.”

Javik stopped looking over her shoulder. “Can you make any sense of it, Commander?”

“Doing my best.” Shepard wished fervently that the Citadel had been created by the Protheans after all. The Cipher would have been of some use in that case. Pushing random buttons didn't seem like a great idea. The Reapers would notice something amiss with the Citadel. And that could only end badly.

”Did you have any luck raising Admiral Hackett or Joker?” Or anybody of the fleet. Shepard didn't mind. The silence and emptiness were getting to her.

“No, Commander. All channels are silent or full of static.”

Just their luck. Shepard tried to concentrate on the console again. It would have been reassuring to at least _ask_ Liara how this worked. “What about the memories of the scientists.”

“I am still piecing them together,” Javik replied. He came over, looking at her terminal before returning to the one he had been inspecting. “Let us hope this works.”

He pushed a few buttons, and Shepard held her breath as the arms of the Citadel slowly began to open up like petals. They had done it. Well, they had started it. Bright light flooded the room, forcing her to shield her eyes.

“Excellent,” Javik said coming to her side. “Now all we have to do is find out how to activate the Catalyst.”

“I thought that was me?” She was so tempted to just stay and look outside. After all it was Earth down there, her home, burning.

“Do you feel the power to destroy the Reapers within you, Commander?” Javik led her away from the window gently, but insistently.

“I, uh.” That was a good question. Just a few moments ago, Shepard had been burning with anger, ready to head-butt every last Reaper out of existence personally if the need arose. But now? She blinked slowly, following Javik's lead. It felt as if the last weeks of constant fighting had caught up with her, breaking over her in a wave of utter exhaustion.

“What about the jamming?” She wanted to know.

“If we find the time. Look.” Javik replied. He stopped for a moment, point behind them where the window was slowly filling with the form of the Crucible.

Shepard smiled. Hackett was not stupid. He had reacted right away, comms or no. It felt good. She was not alone in this. “Maybe they will get past the jamming signal,” she said, blinking again as a strange ship flitted across the view. “Did you recognise that ship?”

“Which one, Commander?” Javik sounded more impatient than she had ever seen him. It was probably because the end was so close now. Fifty thousand years later and he was finally about to succeed in his mission.

Looking back over her shoulder Shepard tried to find the strange shape again. It had not looked like any kind of ship she knew and she knew most of them. Not in person the way Cortez did, but the types, even the historic and discontinued ones. “It was a type I don't recognise.” She caught up with the Prothean.

“What makes you think I know more about the ships in this cycle than you do?” They had reached some kind of elevator the controls of which he scrutinised.

Well, that was a good question. Shepard watched the sphere of the Crucible block out most of the view. The bright light behind it gave it a shimmering halo. Every now and then a ship was briefly outlined in the glow and Shepard had the distinct feeling that she didn't knew any of the types. Had the Alliance built new ships to deliver the Crucible as well? Hackett had never mentioned it.

But then why would he? How the Crucible got to the Citadel was not her problem. Bogging her down with details was certainly not useful. Shepard wished the jamming was gone so she could ask. With Javik doing all of the work at the moment, she felt rather useless.

“Come on, Commander.” He gestured for her to step onto the platform. It shook a little as the Crucible docked to the Citadel.

The ride was short and the destination was not what she had expected at all. Instead of a control room or anything, they found themselves in a hallway. Further down it forked into three separate paths, each ending in a pillar of coloured light.

“This is it?” Shepard looked around.

“So it would seem.”

Before she could reply, a figure formed from light not far away. “So you are cheating.” It approached them wavering all the way. “How interesting.”

“Anything to win the war and wipe out the Reapers,” Shepard replied, raising her weapon. “You can cooperate or you can die with them.”

“Is that so?” The form settled on an eerie version of a hybrid child, half human, half Prothean. “Are you really willing to sacrifice everything to destroy the Reapers?”

“You better believe it.” She reloaded.

“You do not have to destroy us, you know?” The thing looked from her to Javik, then back at her. “There are other ways to end the conflict.”

Shepard looked back at the past years. She had been working towards the destruction of the Reapers ever since Saren had tried to forge his alliance with Sovereign. How could there be another way? Even teleporting the Reapers back into dark space would help nothing if they were not forced to stay there forever. And she didn't trust them to keep a promise like that.

“Who are you even?” Shepard decided to play for time until she had found out what was going on.

“I am the Catalyst,” the fake child said.

“I thought I am the Catalyst,” Shepard looked at Javik.

“A simplification,” he admitted. “How could I have explained this to you in a way you would have believed?”

He did have a point. Shepard returned her attention to the child. It's form was still flickering around the edges, looking sometimes more, sometimes less human. “You control this weapon?” She asked. “You can destroy the Reapers?”

“It is not that simple,” the child replied. “The Reapers were my answer. Created to preserve life at any cost.”

“Well, that didn't work out well, did it?” Shepard almost snorted. “They are doing the exact opposite.”

“They are harvesting advanced civilisations to create space for new species to rise,” the Catalyst countered. “It is the cycle of life.”

No, no it was not. It was a cycle of death and destruction. Shepard glanced at Javik. The Prothean had taken a step back, watching alertly but without interfering. His omni-tool was glowing dimly. Maybe the jamming had been broken after all. Time to act.

“But the cycle can be broken,” she gazed down the path to the junction. “And you will tell me how.”

“You can destroy us, of course,” the child admitted unhappily. “Go down that path and wipe them out, but the prize will be all you had and are.”

If that was what it took, Shepard looked at the red pillar of light, ready to pay the prize for her galaxy. It was not too much to ask for the lives of the trillions at stake.

“You can choose to control them, too.” The light walked down towards the junction a little, pointing at the pillar of blue light to their right. “They will obey your every command. It will bring peace.”

It would also bring war again. Shepard didn't know what she would to if she could wield such power. Enough power to decide any conflict in the galaxy. It was tempting. It was also wrong. She was not the ultimate conscience of the galaxy. If she tried to be it, that would end in tears. A glance at Javik showed that he was shaking his head at that option as well.

“And the green middle?”

“True peace,” the child said. “Synthetic life and organic life combined, intertwined, merged.”

Shepard raised a brow. That sounded suspiciously like Saren's plan. She didn't understand how it would keep organics from waging war on each other either. And that was something they had always been very good at. They didn't need synthetic life for it.

“I understand,” she said, stopping right in the middle of the junction. Shepard didn't need to think, but appearing to do so might be a good idea. “Your opinion, Javik?”

“He has brought you here,” the Catalyst said before Javik could reply. “He is asking you to sacrifice everything and still you ask for his judgement?”

“I do.” It was better than admitting that she was just playing for time.

“I can only advise destruction,” Javik said. “It has been my mission through all this. I must not diverge from it for any reason.”

“You know the scope of the destruction,” the child insisted, its eyes fixed on the Prothean. “Can you take the responsibility for this?”

For a moment Javik was silent. “I can and I will,” he finally said softly.

“So much for that then.” Shepard raised her weapon and strode towards the red pillar of light. Not that firing into it made any sense, but if that was how destroying the Reapers worked, that was how she would do it.

The pillar began to light up, threads of red lashing out as her bullets hit it. Shepard kept firing until it imploded, folding in on itself before bursting and engulfing everything in a wave of burning white light.

 

 

5.

Shepard came to slowly, feeling her body throb dully before actually realising it was her own. The white light had receded, leaving a red glow behind her eyes. She blinked slowly, but the world was dim, the red haze blurring everything. She could see vague figures move about, a low murmur of voices reaching her ears.

“Javik?”

“I am here.”

And there he was, kneeling beside her looking, well she couldn't quite place it. Accomplished, worried, embarrassed. It didn't make sense. “Did we,” she coughed, “did it fire?”

“The Reapers have been destroyed,” he said. “The Crucible worked.”

Shepard leant back against the rubble. Victory after all. She felt exhausted, pummelled to the bone, body and soul. This war was over not a day too soon. She took a few breaths, just relishing in the prospect of not having to fight a Reaper for the rest of her life.

When she looked up a few people had lined up behind Javik, keeping a respectful distance. Something about them was off, but it wasn't until one of them spoke, that she realised what it was. When the foremost one opened his mouth, Shepard hear nothing but a wrangled mix of screeching and clicking noises.

Prothean.

It wasn't just the ones she saw behind Javik, a glance around revealed all forms to be distinctly Prothean, some of them wearing armour she had considered unique to Javik. When she tried to rub her eyes, pain shot through her arm. Shepard winced. “What's going on, Javik?”

“I am sorry.” He helped her to sit up.

“What for?” She eyed the Protheans that approached, hissing and clicking. “Where do they come from?”

“These are my people.” The satisfaction in his voice was undeniable. “The best the Prothean Empire has to offer.”

“But your species was wiped out fifty thousand years ago.”

“It was.” Javik lowered his gaze to her. “We saw our own defeat and planned against it. We knew we had to find the Catalyst or all was lost.”

“What did you do?” It came out as barely more than a whisper.

“Whatever we had to.” Javik held up a hand, stopping another Prothean with a short noise. “We knew we couldn't win. There was no Catalyst in our cycle.”

“But the Citadel,” Shepard began.

“Is useless without the right person to make the decision,” Javik cut her off. “Our scientist had worked that out, but the war had been going on too long. There was no Prothean left willing to win against the Reapers without betraying the soul of our species. We were ready to do absolutely anything.”

By now there was a ring of Protheans standing around them. Shepard glanced around and found only cold, yellow eyes staring back, dissecting her. “What have you done, Javik?”

“What I had to do. What I set out to do.” He sat back on his heels. “I have saved the Prothean race, our Empire, our civilisation.”

“How?”

“When we realised that our civilisation was doomed, our scientists stopped researching the Crucible,” he explained. “Under the pretence of keeping the studies up, they instead found a way to travel back in time so that one of us could survive into a later cycle and bring back the Catalyst from there.”

“You,” Shepard couldn't go on.

“Yes, me,” Javik agreed. “It was my mission to wipe out the Reapers, that was not a lie.”

“But you planned to do it in your own cycle.” Shepard searched his face but found no remorse.

“Of course. You would have done the same.”

Shepard noted rather sharply how he did not call her 'commander' any longer. “But my people...”

“They will never be, not as you know them.” Javik got up, pulling her to her feet as well. “In time, when the humans have developed sufficiently, they will be given the choice every species has, to join the Empire or to perish.”

“Javik.”

“It is as it should be.”

And for him it probably was. One of the Protheans stepped forward, acknowledged Javik with a curt nod before taking her arm. Images and memories flooded her. Not only her own but those of the other as well, a violent mix of experiences forcefully assimilated into an alien mindset.

“And this specimen was the Catalyst?” The Prothean asked, Javik. “It is obvious that we could not produce something that primitive.”

Shepard tried to take a step backwards, but there was already another Prothean waiting, taking hold of her and ripping into her mind. “Erad is right. It is too primitive. What do you want us to do with it now, Emperor Javik?”

A cold shiver ran down Shepard's back. Emperor Javik. The millions he had been supposed to command were still alive. This was his cycle. Nobody she knew was even close to being born. Nobody she knew would ever get born. She had seen to that.

The words of the child came back to her. Was she ready to sacrifice everything to defeat the Reapers? She had said yes. She had meant it. But had she known what it meant, would she have gone through with it? She didn't know. Shepard looked at the Protheans surrounding them before another took hold of her arm, drowning her, again in a maelstrom of memories half unknown.

People could black out from overtaxing, Shepard had known that. It had never happened to her before, though. Still, the chain of Protheans taking hold of her mind and memories, mixing and poking them, scrutinising and dissecting had done a perfectly fine job of that.

Javik had done nothing, just stood back, watched and then – from where she stood, or lay curled up to be more precise, he had then taken that as an excuse to limit access to her strictly. Shepard wanted to spit. Limited access to the human. Don't break the only specimen.

There were still many requests to read her, mostly scientific. Now that the Reapers were gone, the Protheans were back to business as usual as if nothing had ever happened. As if it hadn't taken a primitive from a different cycle to save them all.

The first of her species, the last of her species, a paradox no scientist could resist.

She didn't see that much of Javik. It was a relief because of his betrayal. It was painful because he was the only familiar face, thing in this cycle. He was also the only one who stooped to use her language. The Protheans were the ruling species, everybody had to learn their language. There was no alternative. But so far, Shepard had refused. She had nothing to say to any of them.

“You will get used to it,” Javik said. “It is not that difficult to learn.”

“I don't think there is anything I want to learn from you.”

“I have told you many times that you were not ruthless enough to fight the war,” he reminded her.

“And I may remind you that that was exactly the reason I could activate the Crucible when none of you could.” Shepard slung her arms around her knees.

“You were ready to sacrifice much for your people, Shepard, but not everything.”

“As you did?” She suppressed a snort.

“As I did.” He stood in silence for a moment. “You do not understand how it is to fight against your own people, to kill them in each battle, your own friends and family. The Reapers left us no choice.”

“So you end up doing anything, betray everything your species was to survive.” Shepard shook her head.

“Yes, Commander.” Javik replied calmly. “I would do anything to defeat the Reapers. Even betray my one friend.”

“I guess it is its own kind of indoctrination, doing anything to win, really anything.”

“You may be right.” He sounded sad. “But this I will stand by, Shepard. I will protect you.”

Protect her. Against what? Being used like a book by any Prothean who felt curious about her life? Possibly. And that was a kindness. The prospect of having Prothean paws all over her and their minds prying into hers was disgusting. They had not been very big on asking her first, not to mention accepting 'no' as an answer.

But how could that ever be enough? She was alone in this cycle, more aloe than Javik had ever been. He had known that he had come from the past. She? Her whole future had been taken away, hers and that of her whole species, her whole cycle.

“I don't think I will forgive you, Javik.”

“I understand. But it does not matter. For as long as you are alive, you will be cared for. We owe you everything.”

That they did. Shepard closed her eyes again, retreating into the darkness behind her lids. There was nothing for her in this cycle, not even a mission to fulfil. She was only a trophy, no, not even that. She was barely a strange pet, part of the household because the eccentric owner could not be swayed to cast her out.

Not that there was anywhere for her to go. In that respect, Javik was correct. He was protecting her from whatever ideas his fellow Protheans came up with for her. In his own warped perception that might pass for atonement. It didn't.

“I wish I didn't.”

“I know.” A hand descended on her shoulder, eerily free of accompanying images. Just a touch, no strings attached.

Shepard shook it off, biting down the rising tears until her head rested on her knees. Everything passed. Sooner or later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anybody wonders what the lies and the truth were. here they are.
> 
> 1\. Ilos has the answers.  
> 2\. You are the Catalyst.  
> 3\. This goes to the Citadel.  
> 4\. The Reapers are jamming us.  
> 5\. I will protect you.


	10. You Can Cry Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Actually Shavik. Set during Priority: Earth in ME3
> 
> tw: Major character death

Even from the sky Earth was in ruins, but standing in the rubble of London drove the point home even more painfully. Shepard had grown up on earth. Admittedly not in London but there was something familiar about all big cities. But now there was only destruction.

When her boots hit the ground, there was a thrumming in it that shouldn't be there. Years of living on space ships had drilled this hum into her bones, a sign of safety. But it felt wrong amid the ruined houses. No machine should be close and strong enough to make the ground hum.

Half their shuttles had been shot down. She looked up at the sky for a moment. Blazes of fire sprang up and died like the erring lights of a sparkler. Half their people dead. London a battlefield, no, more like a field during the harvest, torn up with remains carelessly strewn everywhere.

For a moment Shepard wondered if there was anything at all she could do. How could one person change the world, let alone the future of the whole universe? But if anybody could do it, that was her. It didn't matter how unfair that was. She swallowed.

“You can cry later.” Javik put a hand on her shoulder. His yellow eyes rested heavily on her.

But he was right. This was just the beginning. Taking a deep breath Shepard nodded and straightened up. “Let's get to those AA cannons. They are not going to disable themselves.”

They did not and it cost them dearly to reach the guns and seize control of them. And still too many of their shuttles were shot down. The enemy was too strong, overpowering. Shepard stared into the air before her, not seeing anything. They had barely made it into the extraction shuttle. It was flown by a strange pilot. Cortez was lying dead somewhere. Another life lost for her.

“Commander.” Javik put a hand on her arm. It was warm, reassuring and sending calm through her. “You can cry later. Their sacrifice will be honoured in the coming peace.”

She nodded numbly. How could he be so sure they would win. Had he looked at the enemy forces outside? She wanted to take his hand and know what he knew, feel what he felt that made him so damn certain.

Instead the shuttle set down. So this was it, the Forward Operating Base. It didn't look any less like rubble than its surroundings. The rest of the task force was there. So few. There were just so damned few of them at the control point. Shepard looked around and knew that this was not even half of Hammer. It was far less.

But everybody was determined, determined and ready. Who was she to keep them waiting? The last goodbyes were veiled only thinly. The conduit was in sight. This was the last leg of the operation. Everybody knew. Everybody was willing to die to win. They had not lost yet. Shepard smiled.

She hugged Javik in plain view of everybody. He did not know anything she didn't. He just saw her and that was all he needed to believe in their victory. Shepard swallowed the lump in her throat. Was this what the others saw? Her? That she should be hope enough, certainty enough to tide them all through this seemed obscene.

On the other hand it might help if she felt the same certainty, or just a lick of it when she looked out over the destroyed city. What if she was not enough? Who would be left to berate her for deceiving everybody?

Javik's hand closed around the back of her head. “You can cry later.” His words fell into her hair, running down the sides of her head like fingers. He was right, of course. There was no time for tears now. So close to the final goal.

It was also tempting to leave Javik behind in the illusionary safety of the base. But he wouldn't have it. The last of the Protheans and avatar of their vengeance would not stay behind when the final battle was at hand. And she would feel better to have him at her side.

Her other choice was EDI. If they were going into the Citadel to handle alien tech, the best tech expert they had was barely good enough. They checked their weapons. And EDI closed her eyes shortly when Shepard suggested saving a backup on the Normandy. A luxury she didn't have. But why not use it?

The ground was crawling with Marauders and husks. Shepard wondered how long it would take the Reapers to get the hang of keeping facial features on their creatures. Killing the mass of grey-skinned monstrosities was not difficult. But this was just the beginning. Javik had seen the result of centuries of technological progress.

Progress was slow and hindered by Brutes and Harvesters. It felt as if they would never make it. And they didn't. Instead they got stuck with the Thanix missiles, the former team operating the vehicles wiped out. There was no end to the enemies coming at them. Did they know their plan? Or were they just wiping out everything that moved in the vicinity of the conduit?

Shepard glanced at Javik, crouched behind a broken wall, slamming a group of husks out of existence. He looked at ease. This was what he knew. This was very wrong. And readying the missiles took forever. The first salvo went wide, too as the conduit distorted their guidance.

But they had one more salvo even if that meant luring an actual Reaper towards them. The red beam tore up the street like sand. Not that it stopped the Banshees or brutes unless they managed to lure them to walk directly into the beam. That was easier for the brutes than anticipated. Survival instincts were not a trait the Reapers seemed to invest in.

The second salvo did the job but not for long. The path to the Conduit was as clear as it got, but Harbinger descended behind it, continuing its work. They ran. There was nothing for it. Avoiding the deadly beam as well as possible while heading towards the Conduit, Shepard felt trapped in time. Her own heartbeat was silent, the time between its beats stretched into forever.

Then Harbinger hit, ripping the ground apart and sending the makos flying. She turned just in time to see EDI and Javik split apart as one of the vehicles crashed down between them. It was way too close. She skirted around to her friends and found them, alive. Shepard exhaled a breath of relief.

It was not as she had planned it. But it was what it was. Saving EDI's body was just an excuse and they both knew it.

“I can still fight,” Javik objected. “I belong here.”

It was unclear if that referred to the fight or to her personally. But she needed to know he was alive. Putting a hand against his cheek Shepard shook he head. “Please.”

She could feel him crumble, resolve and everything, and it hurt. She knew he was a soldier through and through and that as his commanding officer she could order him needs be.

She didn't want to do that and she was grateful that he didn't let it come to this. I love you, she thought, squeezing his arm gently. “Thank you.”

“You can cry later,” he replied softly.

The shuttle took off and Shepard turned toward the Conduit again the smile fading from her face. Just one more leg. Taking a deep breath she sprinted off. There was something to return to, something worth fighting for, something more substantial than the survival of the whole galaxy. Her friends. Her family. Javik.

The red beam almost caught her, sent her flying. When she got up again, her whole body hurt. Time seemed to have slowed down, but the Conduit was almost within reach. The slower movements of the husks didn't help since she moved sluggish herself. But she kept going, forcing herself forwards on sheer willpower.

When the white beam hit her, Shepard closed her eyes. Her body ripped apart and was put together again inexpertly when she opened her eyes again. The corridor was dim, dead bodies piled everywhere. It was eerily familiar and foreign. Clutching her gun, she put one foot in front of the other.

She hadn’t expected the Illusive Man to be here. It didn't make sense. But then Anderson was there as well. Making sense was obviously not a priority any longer. The discussion was exhausting and senseless. She killed the Illusive Man, opened the arms of the Citadel and sat down beside Anderson. “We did it.”

“Yes, we did.” Ships exploded in silence as they watched. “It's quite a view.”

“Best seats in the house,” Shepard replied. This was it, the prelude to victory.

“God, feels like years since I just sat down.” Anderson sounded as tired as she felt. Years, decades, centuries. The time before the war felt remote and unreal.

“I think you earned a rest,” she replied. They both did. And now was a perfect moment, no matter how hurt they were. ”Stay with me. We're almost through this.”

“You did good child,” Anderson said slowly, labouring on each word. “You did good. I'm proud of you.”

“Thank you, sir.” Shepard turned her head just in time to see him nod off. He looked perfectly peaceful. “Anderson?”

So this was it, the prelude to victory. Only it wasn't. And though the arms were open, that was it. Just as everything came crashing down, Admiral Hackett's voice came over the comm. The Crucible was not firing. Something on her end.

Shepard got up and dragged herself to the control panel as well as she could. _You can cry later_ , Javik's word echoed in her head. Later, when this was indeed over. When the Crucible had done its work. She collapsed, noticing only remotely that an elevator took her up.

He head was fuzzy. The Adrenaline started to ebb off, leaving her open to the pain and exhaustion. Listening to the holo child was not doing her any good. What good was any of this doing. Controlling the Reapers? That was the Illusive Man speaking. Synthesis? Forcing the whole galaxy to become cyborgs?

But the alternative was letting EDI and the geth die. So what. Why not control the evil of the ages? Shepard couldn't think about forcing her decision onto the galaxy unasked. It was not her decision to make. And war was not the problem of synthetics. Organics had had that down pat before inventing sentient machines.

And how could she follow the path of the Illusive Man now? He had seen the error of his ways in the end. But what was the alternative? She looked at the three contraptions before her. What of Saren who had advocated synthesis and seen his mistake? Would she betray him now? Him and all the others. Benezia. Wrex. Kaidan. Jacob. Garrus. Javik.

Shepard closed her eyes for a second. What would Javik say? Fifty thousand years later and still he was betrayed. He would not understand. And how could she justify herself to him, when she didn't believe herself? He would know. He always knew. It was not enough to tip her scales but thinking of him strengthened her resolve.

“I am sorry,” she whispered. But EDI would understand. If Shepard had explained life to her in any way that mattered, she would understand. Joker might not. But then he was only human. EDI was better than that. Which made it worse actually. And the geth. They would be missed. Hell, she missed Legion. One pain for all.

Shepard raised her weapon. Unlimited shots, no heatsink to pop. Too good to be true. Her feet dragged across the floor as she slowly hobbled down the walkway. She had to hold on to the pistol tightly. Her blood-smeared hand was slippery, her fatigue made her muscles quiver. But she would make it. One step after the other.

The red pillar came into her blurred sight. And end, once and for all. A better life for everybody. The chance not to be a dick, synthetic or not. That was all she asked. The freedom of choice. She raised the weapon unsteadily.

“For all the things I should have done but didn't.” She pulled the trigger, stumbling under the gentle recoil.

“For what I didn't say but should have.” Shepard closed her eyes and kept firing. There was too much regret in a life so short as hers.

She should have helped Tali with her pilgrimage. Should have had those drinks with Dr Chakwas. But she hadn’t and now there was no chance to ever redeem that.

She should have told Garrus he was her best friend. Told him before it was too late. She had stood by as he put the ghosts of his past to rest with a clean head-shot. What would it have taken to tell him? And all the trust put in him and confidence brought to naught. By another head-shot. What goes around comes around.

But no more. She could feel energy ricocheting. How was that even possible? Opening one eye a crack, Shepard peered into the red maelstrom ahead. The bullets vanished into it, almost imperceptible. But with each shot fired, the storm raged stronger. It was only a matter of seconds until it broke free.

Shepard didn't really care. She was stranded, all on her own on the Citadel. Who would come to save her even if she succeeded? A single soldier. It would not be right. The image of Javik rose behind her lids again. Smiling, Shepard embraced the red energy coming to claim her. This was not an exit, this was the end.

But she had done it, and done it right. Her limbs flailed in the whirlwind dragging her along. She could not actually retreat into a memory like drell could. But she could concentrate. The vertigo wasn't so bad when she thought of yellow eyes looking at her from above the red-and-gold armour. What would he do now? She hadn't wanted to leave him. Where would he go? Who would, who would- she couldn't finish the thought.

The world seeped back into her perceptions slowly. It was cold and full of pain. Her left side felt like a freezer burn. Breathing was difficult, the air scorched her lungs. But she needed to breathe. Stopping was not an option. There were things she had to do, things she had to say, things to put right.

Shepard choked on the deep breath she had wanted to take. Her insides felt all clogged up. Maybe it would have been better to just die. Lying around like this, awkwardly stretched across random rubble, it only hurt. Not quite as much as the last glimmer of hope, but pretty bad.

There is hope as long as we live. She couldn't quench the thought. If she held on just a little longer, just a bit, somebody would surely come. She would not, could not die alone. Maybe she didn't even have to die. Which wouldn't be the worst of all solutions either.

Her next breath turned into a cough full of blood. Javik had been right. Smug bastard, when was he not? She didn't want to be alone. She had lost too many people. Maybe it would have turned out differently if not for Akuze. But the rest of her career had been desperately trying to keep people alive. To keep them around.

And yet, here she was. All alone, coughing up her life, not even sure where. It was so dim. The lights had been on fully on the Citadel, had they not? Blinking, Shepard tried to discern the ceiling. It was in vain. The air itself seemed to clog her view.

But I don't want to die alone.

Keep it together, Commander. You can cry later.

If only.

Another breath rattled blood up her throat. The cough almost made her double over, but that was too painful. Shepard pressed her right hand onto the wound in her side. Better than no hug at all. At least everybody else was as safe as she could make them. What would they do? Where would they go? The image of Javik alone in his cabin, his few possessions scattered on the floor.

Shepard clung to the memory. Better than being alone. It would have been nice to see him again, only once, only for a moment. But this was war and it was her life. Nothing left to do, no reason to hold up any longer. And what was maybe worst of all, no voice telling her that the time to cry was later.

 “You can cry now.” That was not how the script went.

Shepard closed her eyes, trying not to cough up blood all over him as she took her next breath. She could feel the tears burn against her lids even before she rested her head against his shoulder. But it was alright. This was the end. It was all over. She had done it and she was not alone. Never alone.

Breathing seemed easier. Maybe it was the medigel. And she was warming up again, too. She reached out with her right hand, trying to get a hold on Javik's shoulder, but her fingers bounced off the pauldron, slipping down the metal and leaving dark red trails on the red armour.

I am so sorry.

But it was okay. She could feel that. Javik had overridden the one-way street. It was okay to cry. She had done well. And this was the end. If she didn't cry now, when would she ever? Shepard smiled at the thought. She had held up long enough. Time to let go.

Her whole body shook. Shepard had no idea when she had cried the last. Before he incarceration? Before her resurrection? It didn't seem healthy. No, there had been Mordin's death. Garrus' death. Did she only ever cry when somebody died? That was not how it worked, was it? Maybe it was.

The frustration and stress bled from her eyes. A knot of guilt, resignation, and pain untangled slowly under her sobs. The calming effect was wondrous. And despite her clogged nose she could still smell the scent of Javik. So close. She would never give him up. For nothing in the galaxy. And he knew. They would stay together until the end.

There was only the warm darkness surrounding her, shaped by Javik's arm holding her and the curve of his armour against he face. Everything was alright. For the middle of a war, it was surprisingly peaceful. Shepard sighed.

Don't leave me.

He would not. She knew he would not. As if he had said it. She could hear his voice in her mind, clear as if he had spoken. He would be with her until the end.

“That is right, Commander.” His mouth was close to her ear. But that wasn't necessary, she could hear him just fine. All she needed was some rest now. Sleep, respite. A hearty breakfast after getting up. Sleeping curled up against Javik if he allowed it. Her memories must be a horrible mess. And she wasn't sure how well she was shielding, if at all. Looking up at his face, she wondered who had turned down the lights even further. Time to sleep.

I love you Javik.

Shepard was not sure if she had actually managed to say it. But he held her. He would feel it. Wouldn't he? Why was there no reply? Just a short spike of regret. Shepard didn't understand. But the darkness was beckoning. And there would be time tomorrow.

“Yes, tomorrow.” It was but a whisper against her ear. “Sleep well, Shepard.”

She would have to remember asking him what she had done to make him so sad. But not now. Shepard relaxed. There would be time tomorrow. After the dark.


	11. Losing the World and Your Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> perfect drabble

"Everybody?" Javik did not believe it.

"Everybody," Shepard echoed, pressing her face against the cold glass of the fish tank. Everybody but Mordin and him just because I sent him back to treat the survivors."

"Still your friends from before.-"

"Javik," Shepard interrupted him. "I was dead for two years. Of those who remembered about nobody wanted anything to do with me."

"But you are not alone." Four eyes blinked out of sync.

"And neither are you." Shepard smiled though it hurt. When Javik reached out, she closed her eyes briefly, leaning into the touch hat said everything. "Never alone."


	12. Weakness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [prompt from the MEFF facebook group](https://www.facebook.com/groups/1487948741509331/)

_Was it true?_ Shepard looked into four yellow eyes.

It influenced your decisions, held you back and made hard decisions really hard. She shook Virmire away. She had continued, had she not? Shepard batted down the suicide mission. She had moved on, had she not? Cussing, screaming, drinking, crying – but here she was, ready to fight the Reapers because, she still fucking cared.

Yes, she was about to add to her growing list (Wrex, Kaidan, Kasumi, Garrus, Tali, Jacob, Jack Thane, Mordin, Kirrahe) but nothing would ever push her harder not to.

"No," she decided. "It is not a weakness."


End file.
